“Musicians, bush!”
“Come up to the bank and I’ll explain to you why I didn’t discount it.”
“A speech! Silence!”
“Musicians, cease playing!”
“Strike up ‘In the Meadows.’”
“Madame Angot!”
“No! Yakov Tarasovich, we beg of you!”
“That’s called Strassburg pastry.”
“We beg of you! We beg of you!”
“Pastry? It doesn’t look like it, but I’ll taste it all the same.”